Northern Ivy

There's a man living down the hill
He lives with his family, in a small home.
His skin is dry, tanned and thick,
Like someone who worked long years under the sun.
Once upon a time, he wanted to live
To go to the City and see the world.
But that was so, so long ago...
Now happiness for him is a little shadow,
A glass of cold water, a lit fireplace at night.
Nothing could prepare him
For all the colours, the music and the joy
That were upon him when the People from the East came.